Just Before Dawn
by lx-Kisa-xl
Summary: Stephen takes out his frustration at Linda's mistrust on his son- after all, it's always his fault, right? Not for the faint of heart. N/C StephenxButters, eventual Bunny and Creek.
1. Just a Drink of Water

**A/N**- _So this is a roleplay I'm doing with a lovely girl named Lex. XD_

_Uhhh... as a warning, it's very dark and terrible in the beginning, with child abuse, molestation, things like that. If you can't stomach terrible, terrible things, you probably want to skip this one. So like, consider yourself warned and don't be flaming and stuff over the content. That out of the way, I hope you enjoy it, or at least that you can get through it. The rest of the story will be much less sickening... for the most part._

_Oh. And South Park does not belong to us._

* * *

It wasn't really rare for Butters to wake up at night, always at some odd hour far past his bedtime. Of course, there were various reasons as to why the petite blonde would find himself awake beneath the powder blue comforter, the light of the moon illuminating small patches of his room while making the shadows only darker, casting him into a bedchamber that was no longer that of his own. Nightmares were the most prominent cause to his late-night wakings. After that came the sound of strange things outside his window, which, he would often find to be nothing more than a cat, the wind, or Cartman. But tonight it was neither of those things, the boy was simply thirsty.

He twisted, and turned, snuggling deeper into his sheets as he attempted to forget the dryness that painfully took over his mouth, his throat, his lips. Butters was simply too exhausted, too comfortable in the warmth of his bed to leave for a cup of water. Though, before long he found himself no longer cozy, his thirst outweighing the warmth in this situation. There was no longer any reason to stay in this bed. He padded down the halls as quietly as he could, creeping softly down the stairs until he reached the kitchen. The cold tiles bit at the remaining warmth the bottoms of his feet held, moving slowly through his body until his milky skin was covered in goosebumps.

Before his teeth had the chance to chatter, he was downing a fresh glass of tap water quickly, his eyes closed as he re-hydrated the best he could. With a smile, the blonde hummed a small tune under his breath, helping himself to a second glass. This one he sipped at, allowing his azure eyes to travel around the darkness of the kitchen. But wait - it wasn't really as dark as it should be. He located the problem. There had been a light left in the den, it's warm yellow glow falling onto the linoleum tiles of the kitchen - a detail he had previously missed in his grogginess.

"H-Hello?" He tiptoed into the light of the den, peering into the room to try and find the source. Butters kept his voice low, clutching the his glass with both hands, "Is anyone here? Ah-Dad?"

In his old wing-back chair in the corner of the den, Stephen Stotch dozed restlessly. In one hand he held a half snifter of bourbon. In the other, a rolled up gay porno magazine. He'd been having trouble sleeping, ever since Linda had discovered his little habit of going out and fucking random men. When Butters called out in the semidarkness he stirred and grunted, one eye opening. "... Butters? What are you doing up at this hour young man?"

"N-nothin', Dad. I jus' needed some water was all," Butter's bright eyes gauged his father warily, only hoping that this late-night interruption would not be deemed punishable. His tiny fingers tightened their grip around the glass of water as he tried his hand at an apology. "Sorry for wakin' you, I didn't know...I wasn't sure if you were down here. I-I'll just get back to bed now," The blonde's feet refused to move, as much as he wanted to back away, to escape quickly back into the warmth of his bed sheets. He didn't want any lecture tonight, he just wanted to sleep.

"No, wait." Stephen was thinking as he woke up a little more. There was something he'd been toying with in his mind ever since he'd been found out and had to stop going out and getting his ass pounded. "Come on in, Butters. I want to have a talk with you. And...lock the door when you come in."

"O-okay." Butters did as he was told, closing the door behind himself and turning the lock into place with a crisp metallic click. Then he turned and padded over to his father's chair, climbing up into his lap. "What do you need to talk to me about?" His father started to rub his back lightly, and he leaned into the touch, happy for a bit of affection.

Stephen kept rubbing against the nine-year old's back, his eyes on his son's. "Well, you asked before if I was sore at you about it... and to be honest Butters, I wasn't at first, but I really miss going to those places, seeing my friends, and...wrestling with them." His tone was soft and a little scolding, deceptive and manipulative. He'd been thinking about ways to get more sex on the side for days now, and he'd kind of run out of options. There was always Butters though, and his son was damned easy to use. Not to mention with the right wording, he'd be very unlikely to tell anyone. He already knew his brother had felt his son up at a family reunion once.

Butters frowned, his eyebrows knitting upwards in concern, eyes cast downwards. "Gosh, Dad. I'm sure sorry. I never meant to take all those things you liked so much away from you." He looked back up to his father apologetically, wringing his hands together in a nervous fashion. The blonde wasn't quite sure where this was going, but a conversation starting with disappointment could never end well.

"Well. you know, Butters. You could help me out with that. You could wrestle with me instead." Stephen suggested, his smile turning more eager. "Of course, if your mother found out she'd likely go crazy and try to kill you again, so it'll have to be between us, but I'll feel SO much better..." He explained.

Butters brightened up. His father just wanted to wrestle? Why, he could do that. "Sure I will, dad!" He said, grinning. He didn't understand why it was that his father didn't want his mother to know that they had wrestled together, but he decided to leave it be. At times, his father could be a bit...peculiar, it seemed.

"Good." Steven's patience slipped a bit and he grabbed the boy's ass more pointedly. "It might hurt, since you have to follow my rules and I'm gonna pin you so good..." Just thinking about it was making him hard, and Butters could probably feel his cock twitching. "We have to get naked first." He added, starting to push Butters out of his lap. "Go on." He added, already shrugging out of his robe eagerly.

"Uh... alright!" Butters agreed as he was pushed out of his father's lap, figuring it was just part of the game. After all, when he had seen his father wrestling with the other men, they were naked, too. It must have been normal, right? Yeah, right. So he undressed quickly, his pajamas pooling on the floor around his ankles before he stepped out of them.

Stephen moved to stand up, freeing his erection by pushing down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion. "Come on, Butters." He said excitedly, taking the boy's upper arm, "We'll wrestle on the couch." And with that he dragged the child over and pushed Butters down. "You know...this'll be more fun for you, Butters, if you lick my ...wiener first. It'll go in easier." He suggested, having a hard time containing himself in his excitement. "Go on..." He said, kneeling facing the little blonde and putting his hands on either of his cheeks, pulling small lips toward his weeping cock.

There was one thing Butters was sure of now, and that was that this was no wrestling match. The blonde's face drained in color as he was pushed down on the couch, horrified by the vivid excitement that danced throughout his father's eyes eyes - and cock. And now, as his father forced him closer, he closed his bright blue orbs, far too stunned and scared to do anything other than directed. Hesitantly, his pink tongue drifted clumsily along Steven's shaft and to his head, cheeks returning in color only to burn with an embarrassment of sorts, mixed with the deepest sense of confusion. 'Oh, hamburgers...'

Steven let out a low, pleasured moan, head falling back a bit. His hold on Butters' hair lightened and he let his son do with it what he would, sometimes hissing an instruction or bit of praise. He seemed like a completely different person at the moment, and Butters had every reason to be embarrassed and confused. "Try to get it in your mouth," He demanded, hauling Butters up a little. "You get it good and wet or you won't walk right for a week, it'll hurt so bad..." He threatened.

Butters couldn't really comprehend the noise that came from his father. Was he hurting him? It was difficult to tell with eyes closed, too fearful and ashamed to take a peek. He followed his father's instructions blindly, continuing to lap at his hardened member, only opening his eyes when his father warned him, lifting him slightly. The boy didn't understand why his vision was blurry as he glanced up to his father's crazed face before looking back to the cock in front of him, but any other could speculate that it was due to the heated tears that were forming in his eyes.

Reluctantly, Butters did what he was told, unable to clearly protest, fearing for the pain his father had mentioned, whatever form it took, would only be worse if he did so. His little mouth opened as wide as it could, only to circle around his father's erection, wincing as he fought a gag once he could no longer push his mouth around it any further.

Steven groaned again, petting at Butters' hair. He could feel the child's spit running down his pulsing cock, and decided enough was enough. Sticking two of his own fingers in his mouth he pulled Butters off his cock and turned him around, bending him over the arm of the couch. Large, rough fingers circled around Butters' tight little ring of muscles before one roughly intruded, worming around to help force it's way in.

Butters squirmed as his father turned him around, flinching uncomfortably as he felt the moist fingers toy with his backside, the water that had formed in his eyes finally falling into tears. "H-hey s..sto-AH!" He yelped in pain, though it was more in shock, as the first finger entered, silencing whatever small amount of speech Butters had previously attempted to make out, only eliciting a small whimper of fear and discomfort. He was beyond confusion at this point - when you begin to feel things moving inside you, it's best to just give up trying to figure anything out.

Steven just laughed, though the act of stretching him out a little first was really a kindness. Leaning out of the way he spat on Butters' ass, and it dripped down to meet where his finger was now shoved inside his son. "You've gotta be quiet." He said, smirking and giving a particularly vicious twist of his finger, now buried up to his knuckle, "Or mom'll kill you. Remember that."

"Nnnff..." Butters bit his lip, hoping it would keep away the sound, though to be honest, death was beginning to sound better than this...this...whatever this was. But it was too late to turn back now, ribs digging into the armrest, flinching at the twist of his father's finger. He had to force back a yelp. He could only pray that it would all be over soon.

Steven continued to stretch him in a bit of a rush, spitting on his hole now and then to keep it at least a little slick. When his patience ran out, he pulled his fingers out of Butters and wiped them on the boy's back. "Bite down on the cushion." He commanded, grinning and placing his cock against the boy's already abused entrance. "Can't have you screaming." Giving Butters time to comply, he gave himself a few strokes, hissing in pleasure with his weeping tip just touching the boy's puckered muscle.

A gasp escaped the boy in a sense of relief for a mere moment as the fingers left him, though it was short-lived, the sound of his father's voice sending a whole new fearful shiver through him. But Butters did as he was told, following what seemed to be the trend of the night. His white teeth, some of them still baby-teeth, dug deep into the fabric of the sofa's cushion. Keeping his eyes shut tight, he tensed, bracing himself for what would seem to be, the worst night Butters would ever encounter.

Steven gave him a minute to get ready, smirking again. He almost seemed to be waiting for the boy's tension to build up, the anticipation of the pain to really bother him. Then he was forcing himself into Butters' resisting hole, first slowly. Once he had his tip in though, he snapped his hips forward and forced it all at once, feeling the tortured flesh yield as he buried himself in the boy's heat, shuddering. The poor, broken body beneath his larger one was still trying to purge itself of him, Butters' torn skin and stretched muscles tightening to push him away. It didn't work, but it sure as fuck felt amazing. "Butters..." Steven moaned.

With his breathing pattern hoarse and weak with pain and sobs, Butters tried to escape of his father's moan behind him, the sound only drawing him back to the reality that he was trying his best to avoid facing. The cushion had did it's job in keeping his squeals half-muted, muffling them into silence as squirmed to the point that he could no longer, exhaustion forcing his limbs into the stillness of submission. He burrowed his face deep into the fabric of the sofa, left soggy with tears, whimpering a choked and hushed plea ever so often. They were inaudible even to himself, however, his heart and breath racing too fast and loud for him to hear much of anything else.

Stephen didn't seem to notice or care how much he was upsetting his son. He withdrew partway from the boy's ruined little hole, glancing down at the blood now smeared on his cock, and grunted, ramming into him again. Soon he was pounding away, holding onto the writhing body beneath him while he used it for his pleasure. It didn't take long before the tight, wet hole was drawing out his orgasm, and he spilled his seed into his son's body, half collapsing onto his pale back and gasping for air, giving his hip a smack for good measure. "Damn..."

He winced as his father came, the warmth that filled him taking the boy aback, stinging at the fresh wounds. Even once the thrusting had come to an end, Butters continued to whimper, wondering how long it would take for him to suffocate if he kept his face buried in the sofa cushion. Was it over? Would ever be over? Even if he had the strength, he was to afraid to move, to speak. To do anything. He just lay there, hiding, shaking.

Steven pulled his softening cock out of his son's abused ass and sat back on the couch, sighing happily. "I win." He said, and laughed. Then he smacked Butters' ass again. "What are you doing laying there? Go get cleaned up and go to bed. And remember, if you tell anyone, you'll end up dead. We don't want that, right?"

How could he laugh like that? So cheerful. Butters tried to block the sound of his voice, though it was to no avail. Slowly, Butters shifted to sit once his breathing pattern settled slightly, still hiccuping with shaky sobs ever so often. He hissed at the pain, each movement sending a sharp shock through his body. He felt as if he had been torn in two from the inside out, every action he took sending him closer to the moment he would fall apart completely.

"N-no...sir. I-ah...I won't tell any...anyone." It's not like he even knew how to explain what had just happened, this wrestling match. He stared across the floor to where his forgotten pajamas lay, wondering just how he would ever make it over to them, let alone to the bathroom, or his bedroom. His mind didn't even dare wander to the next day at school. Maybe he could feign an illness. No one would know. Weakly, he hobbled off the sofa and to his clothes, one of his hands swiping viciously at the tears that stained his red face. "G-Goodnight, Dad."

Suddenly, Stephen seemed to take notice of just how much pain his son was in. His face softened, that smirk falling mostly away. "...Butters? Do you need some help, son? I know it hurt you, but you made me really happy. It won't be so bad next time, come here..." And getting up, he moved easily over to his son, holding his arms out, a shocking contrast to the way he'd acted only minutes before.

Butters looked at his father skeptically for a moment, unsure if he could really trust him. It could have been one of those little white-fucking-lies he had loved so dearly. But as he held out his arms, he found he had no choice but to stumble towards him. This was his father. He loved Butters, right? It wasn't like he would ever harm him on purpose. He made him happy...

"N-next time...?" He looked up at Stephen, wiping some of the fresh tears that continued to fall off his cheeks with is free hand. So it wasn't the end. Would there ever even be an end? He shook the question out of his head before he had the chance to dwell on it. "You promise...it won't be as bad?"

"I promise, Butters." Stephen assured, folding the broken little boy into his arms. "You'll even like it someday." He added, rubbing the child's lower back and settling him on one hip, gathering their clothes. "I like it, don't I?" He pointed out, kissing Butters' cheek and carrying him off to wash the evidence of his sin away.


	2. A Blessing in Disguise

**A/N:** _So, chapter two. Uh... it only mentions eft up things at least... and it has Kenny! And cookies! So it should be like, better. In terms of not pissing people off. I kinda wanted to hold out for reviews, but since I'm like not updating my other story either I figured I should put SOMETHIN' up, huh? So here's 'somethin' for you. XD  
Do not own and all that jazz. Whatevah. We do what we want._

* * *

It had been a few months since Steven's first 'attack' on his son. He'd given the boy a good week to heal, then introduced him to sex a little more gently. Things like using real lube and making sure Butters had orgasms as well surely confused the nine-year-old, who wouldn't know how to feel about any of it, or really what was going on. He had kept his promise though, and the boy was slowly getting used to taking the kind of sex Stephen wanted to give him. He didn't even seem all that afraid anymore, though he often sort of checked out and went limp during the actual events, like his mind was going somewhere else. His father didn't care, a warm inviting body was enough to make him happy. And Butters was getting much better at sucking cock, the man told his friends proudly over beers whenever the topic arose.

After the first time he'd mentioned it, his friends had started to bother him about bringing the boy out to 'meet' them. A month or so later, he went ahead and did just that, and poor Butters spent the day being manhandled and used, over and over. He'd been pretty much catatonic by the time Stephen had brought him home that night, but he'd slept it off and been kind of back to normal by the morning. No one seemed to notice the subtle ways Butters was changing- he didn't talk as much, he didn't seem so nervous any more- mostly because he didn't care about much of anything. More recently he'd made up some alter ego called "Professor Chaos," and it was curious whether the rejection of his friends or the happenings with his father had been the cause.

In any case, a few days before, Butters had been attempting once again to be included in the neighborhood boys' game, which had apparently involved them pretending to be ninjas, when one of the children had thrown a ninja star at the little blonde's eye. It had actually required surgery, and Butters would be wearing a patch for at least a few weeks. Though this might have seemed like a painful misfortune, it at least got Stephen to lay off for a while- eye patches weren't sexy to him and his pedophile friends.

The little boy who had thrown the weapon at Butters, Kenny McCormick, felt a lot worse about injuring the other boy than he'd thought he would. For a while he ignored it and put it off, but when Butters hadn't been back out to play in three days or so, he felt the odd need to go visit him. That was what he was doing at the moment- standing on the Stotch's front porch in his little orange parka and reaching up a brown-gloved hand to ring the doorbell. Butters hadn't even been going to school, and since it was during the day, neither of his parents were around.

Butters had been hiding out in his room for the majority of the day, still recovering from the operation he had undergone a few days prior. Between sleeping and playing with his set of Sanrio Hello Kitty and Friends plush toys, he found himself lazily flipping through the channels of their cable television. Just as long as he took the suggested dose of Tylenol No. 3, the pain really wasn't too bad. He didn't mind it, really. It gave him a chance to rest for awhile from his secret life as a rag doll, to be constantly used and then cast aside. Even if he had begun to enjoy it, the twisted acts that his father and friends would force him to preform were beginning to take a toll on Butters, making him all the more grateful for this break. He was trying his best to be a normal kid again, before anything had happened. Though, even with the temporary break, Butters was failing to feel anything like the boy he had been before, and he had a feeling it wasn't just because the lack of depth perception. No, it seemed as if some light bulb had burnt out, a smoggy shade taking over his life to the point that it was always half-night, half-asleep. Something had been lost.

The sound of the doorbell caught Butters off guard as he had been so unbelievably wrapped up in some corny sitcom, fittingly tacky and cliche for daytime television. His parents hadn't told them that they were expecting anyone while they were out for the day, had they? He frowned in a spout of confusion and curiosity, placing the remote down on the coffee table before he rolled of the couch, making his way to the door. Cautiously, he pulled it open, far too short to reach the peephole that rested a few feet above his head. He was taken aback, to say the least, to find Kenny on the other side. Butters wasn't really accustomed to getting company. "Hey there, Kenny," he smiled, pulling back the door a little more, "What brings you by?"

The slightly taller blonde boy shoved his hands in threadbare pockets, looking to the left and right as though he expected someone to see him and laugh. "Hi Butters." He said, his voice muffled as usual by his coat. "I just came by to see how you were doing... uh, can I come inside maybe?" The truth was, the dirty little boy was freezing. His only pair of shoes had gotten a pretty big hole in them, and his feet were numb and tingly. He couldn't feel his hands anymore. Not to mention the whole feeling bad about hurting the other thing..

Butters hesitated, unsure if his parents would approve of letting him have a friend over when he was supposed to be recovering, but he decided to risk it. He was getting tired of being alone, and Kenny just looked so cold and hungry. "Sure thing, Kenny. Come on in, it's sure cold out there." He smiled, welcoming the other blonde into the heated household, "Do you want some hot chocolate? I have some water on the stove, I'm sure there's enough for both of us."

Kenny looked like he could have hugged Butters, but he refrained. "That sounds good." He said casually, stepping inside and kicking off his broken shoes, starting to shiver lightly. "It...really is cold." He admitted. "It's too cold to snow, at least..."

Butters shut the door behind Kenny, hoping to block out as much of the cold air from outside that he could. "Aw, but the snow is nice sometimes. Think of how ugly everything would be without it." He smiled lightly, though it soon faded. His attention was taken by the sounding of the tea kettle, "Make yourself at home. There's a blanket on the couch if you want it. I'll be back with our cocoa."

Kenny nodded and slipped off to the couch, shedding his soggy gloves and burrowing down in. He hid completely under the blanket, shivering even more when his body started to adjust to the warmth of the place. Really, Butters was just too fucking nice for his own good. It was something Kenny really liked about him.

It wasn't long before Butters came from the kitchen, holding two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, one of those little bags of Pepperidge Farm cookies tucked under his arm, being sure not to spill a drop, for obvious reasons. His parents would most likely disown him. He was sure to avoid the '#1 Dad'-themed mugs that rested in the corner shelf above the sink when finding one for Kenny, settling on a spare Hello Kitty cup, differing only slightly from his own. "Here you go. You might want to let it cool a bit..." He set the cocoa onto the coasters that scattered the coffee table, placing the bag of cookies closer to Kenny than where he sat himself. The codeine-laced Tylenol chased away most of his hunger. "Have I missed much at school?"

Kenny shook his head, peeking out from under the blanket and reaching a hand out to snatch at the cookies. "God these look good." He said, tugging the edge of his hood down for a moment to shove one in his mouth whole. It was a while before he spoke again, looking over at Butters. "Huh? Oh, no. There's a field trip to the museum today, but I couldn't aff- uh, I didn't wanna go..."

Butters frowned, knowing well the truth to why Kenny hadn't gone to the field trip, though he didn't touch on it, only uttering a simple agreement. "Yeah, I don't blame you...those trips usually aren't all that fun." A white-lie to match another. Butters truly looked forward to any field trip, though Kenny didn't have to know that. It just wouldn't be right to mourn over missing such a trivial thing in front of the other.

Kenny's eyes darted to Butters and he smiled lightly before jamming another cookie in his face. He was fucking hungry, but then again he didn't eat every day. "Yeah..." The truth was, when he COULD go on them they didn't totally suck ass, other than when he got killed somehow. "So...does your eye still hurt a lot?"

"Nah, not really. It's gotten better..." He smiled, picking up his glass of hot chocolate to grip with both hands, allowing it to warm him some. "I don't mind it. They say it'll be good in no time." Butters couldn't help but frown a bit at that before he could catch himself, returning to his smile. He liked this break. He wouldn't mind being a cyclops for a little while longer, as long as he could rest.

Kenny nodded slowly, following suit in taking his cocoa and sipping it, still hiding in the safety of his hood. "You know, I didn't do that to be mean." He said uncomfortably, "But leave it to you to slap a Hello Kitty sticker on your pirate patch and make it something cute." It was all mumbled and indistinct, but honest. Kenny was already terrible at saying anything sincere. It came from the life he was leading. It would only get worse.

Butters glanced down at his cocoa, doing his best to avoid any direct eye contact with Kenny, fearing he would be give away everything if he did. He sipped at the cocoa, allowing it to burn is tongue. "Yeah, of course I do." It was no secret, Butters thoroughly enjoyed going to class. He always had. In 4th grade, there was little to dislike about school. Especially for Butters.

Kenny reached out and set his cocoa aside at that, then crawled over the couch to put his face in Butters' line of sight. "So what did you really mean?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. Normally he might have been making dirty jokes, but he really was curious and something told him that whatever it was it wasn't funny. He couldn't ever remember seeing Butters' face look like that before.

He frowned at Kenny, his one eye finally meeting the other's gaze. "I just...I can't tell you Kenny. Just forget I said anything, alright?" He looked away again at that, slightly miffed. Part of him wanted to tell Kenny, a very prominent part, though another reminded him of the embarrassment and doom that would lay in store if he did manage to ever get out the words to the boy. Butters was certain the threat of death would mean nothing to one who went through the process each day, yet not everyone had as many lives as Kenny McCormick possessed. Slowly, he looked back to the other, "How bad is it, Kenny? Death...is it really bad?"

Any hint of amusement in Kenny's eyes vanished. "Dying? Well, it hurts and all, I guess... look, what the hell is wrong with you? I'm your friend you know.. even if I don't act like it." By then he had decided if his friend didn't talk about whatever was bothering so much he'd hold him down and bug him until he did.

Butters' gaze was filled with a worn look, tired of defending himself already. He was so accustomed to giving in anymore that he wasn't sure how to put up a fight. "Kenny. Just...just leave it be, okay? I'll be killed if I tell you." He bit his lip, taken aback at the status Kenny had declared them to be at; friends. It was odd, to hear it out loud like that, though it made him smile slightly.

Kenny's blue eyes got huge and he clambered closer still, plopping down just short of Butters' lap. "Since when do I matter enough to make anyone else get dead? And why do you think that? And... seriously. What the fuck?"

"I..." Butters allowed his gaze to fall on his lap. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone. Anyone. Okay?" He was already trying to form the words of his explanation in his mind, unsure of just how the hell he was going to say any of it in a way that it made sense. He looked back up to Kenny, "Just promise me that much."

Kenny nodded with an odd solemnity and reached out, covering Butters' soft little hand with one of his rougher ones. "Yeah. It's between us. I promise." He'd seen his share of fucked up shit already in his short life, and something told him he was about to hear some more. Just the way Butters looked made his chest hurt for the other boy a little, something he wasn't quite used to, since he made it a rule not to give a shit about anyone else.

Butters looked down to Kenny's hand, smiling briefly as he allowed his gaze to fall back to Kenny. "Well, uh, it was a few months ago that it started. It feels like it was so long ago, but I guess it really wasn't," he began his story softly, easily. He really wasn't sure what it was that made him so comfortable speaking with Kenny, though he felt like he could trust him. "It was late, and I woke up thirsty. When I went down stairs I saw that the den light was on so I went to go see why, it ended up that my dad had fallen asleep, I guess, since I woke him," Butters looked down at the cocoa mug that rested in his lap, studying the liquid within as he spoke.

"He told me he wanted to talk. He said he missed the things I took away from him when I told my mother what he was really doing when he went to go buy her 'anniversary gifts.' That he missed wrestling with his friends. He...he said that I could make it up to him if I would wrestle with him instead, but I couldn't tell anyone or else they would kill me. I didn't see what the big deal was...why would anyone want to kill me for wresting with my dad? Well, then he told me to take of my clothes..." His gaze found Kenny again, a troubled look darting across his face as he found his friend before he looked away, ashamed.

"S-So we went to the couch, naked. He told me to put his wiener in my mouth, that it wouldn't hurt so much when it went in if it was wet. But it still hurt, Kenny. I thought I was going to die that night, and now...I sorta wish I had. I thought it was the end, but it was only the beginning."

Kenny's blue eyes widened and he squeezed Butters' hand hard. "He..he raped you? RAPES you?" He corrected himself, seeming unsure of how to process the information. He wanted to hug Butters close, but he didn't know if that would upset him. It was pretty hard to rape Kenny, and he was only nine! Then again, he really would do ANYTHING for five dollars. He'd always been that way, and since he was also a little pervert, it had translated to sex recently. Still, there had been once or twice that he hadn't wanted to, but that was nothing compared to having a family member- a father, do it all the time. "Don't wish you died, Butters... I... shit, dude..."

Rape. So that was the correct term for this. Butters still couldn't bring himself to look back at Kenny, too embarrassed. "Well, it's not always him. Lately, he's been passing me around to his friends, too." He turned swiftly to Kenny then, as if suddenly remembering something. "Oh! But what I had meant to say before, is that I'm happy, Kenny, that you gave me this...this little blessing in disguise. They haven't...raped me since." He gave a slight smile then, though it didn't meet his gaze. "So, I guess I should really be thanking you."

Jaded, teasing, perverted Kenny wasn't sure what he was feeling. "Butters..." He swallowed and went ahead and pulled him into an embrace, hoping it wouldn't upset him. "I fuckin' poked your eye out! You should be totally mad at me! A-and that has nothing to do with anything, Butters... what he...they're doing to you- it's illegal! Your dad and anyone else who touched you when you didn't want it should all go to jail!!"


	3. Why Not?

**A/N-**_ Mkay, Third chapter of this one. I keep wanting to hold out, but you know, there's no point. If ya'll'd just review this I could give you more. I guess I'm used to my ten reviews a chapter from the FMA fandom. Or, you just have to be really good to get that kinda response 'round these parts. XD_

_Anyhow, read and enjoy. And **review** so I don't feel so alone. I don't care if you think it's stupid! Just say so! TT_

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Butters smiled sadly, returning the embrace with one arm, the other still pinned down with his cocoa mug. He didn't mind it when Kenny offered him such simple touches, in fact he liked it, maybe a bit more than he should. It was different from the cold, mechanical embraces that his father and friends so rarely offered him. No, Kenny was warm, his words offering a comfort to the extreme that Butters was unsure that he had ever experienced. He pulled back at the word, 'jail', however, looking at the other boy through one wide eye. "Jail? Kenny, I could never..." he shook his head, finally resting his cocoa back on the coffee table. "He's still my father. I don't want to lock him up! Plus, then he'd know...he'd know I broke my promise not to tell."

"Butters... he's your dad! He's supposed to protect you, and take care of you!" He was still hanging onto Butters, as if that could fix him. "He shouldn't have made you promise something like that in the first place. He should be fucking your mom, not you! And letting his friends... it's fucked up!" The blonde held on tighter, burying his half-hidden face against Butters' shoulder.

He was silent for a long while, fighting back the tears that had managed to well up in his eyes without warning. He knew Kenny was right. Everything in the past few months had been wrong, and throughout the confusion, Butters had perhaps always known it to be so. Even so, none of this changed the boy's perspective on the secret - it was to stay just that, unknown to anyone's ears aside from his own and Kenny's. "I...I'm not tellin' anyone. They'll hate me, th-they'll think I'm disgusting," he shook his head, "they'll kill me."

"You're not disgusting!" Kenny insisted, holing onto the other tighter like it would help. "You can't just let him keep letting it happen! You're better than that, Butters!" He insisted, drawing away to look the boy over. "You should only do what you're okay with!"

Butters winced slightly as Kenny's grip around him tightened, though he didn't try and pull back any. In fact, he was slightly torn when the other moved to look at him. He wanted to give in to Kenny's good commands, he really did. Though, whenever he began to lean into giving in, a reminder of his father as the so-called responsible, normal adult he had thought him to be drew him away, knowing too well that he could never throw that man into jail. His brain wouldn't allow him to reason that his father was never like that. That the only honest actions he had done were selfish and cruel. Rarely normal, though sickly responsible for everything. Butters was blind to all of these facts and this as well, could be traced to Steven.

With a sigh, he looked away from Kenny, trying to hide the tear that managed to drop from his one, visible eye. "I'm sorry, Kenny...but I can't change this. It's not so simple. I-I wish it was, but I can't. I can't even explain why it is, but..." he looked back up, "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have ever burdened you with my secret."

Kenny shook his head, setting his jaw. "No, it's okay, you have to tell people things like this... Butters, you never did anything to deserve this... I... if you ever need someone to talk to..." He offered uncertainly, "I'll try to be there for you. Okay?" He wasn't sure how he could just stand by and watch his friend get molested and all, but that seemed to be Butters' choice. "I'll figure out something to help, somehow..."

Butters nodded, allowing his head to fall onto Kenny's shoulder. "Thank you, Kenny...for everything. Don't feel like you have to do anything, please. You've already helped so much, really." He sat up again then, looking at him sternly, "Whatever you do, just don't worry about me, okay?"

Kenny shook his head, meeting Butters' eyes again, and carefully undid his hood, pushing it back off his head and revealing a shock of messy, dirty blonde hair, and a face that would one day be quite hansdsome. "I'll worry if I want to. Someone should..."

Butters blinked, wanting to protest, though found that he couldn't. It was difficult to say no to such a face. It was such a rare thing to see Kenny's face without the orange parka hiding away his features for reasons Butters could never fully understand. He wanted to be sure he remembered his face clearly, however, never sure when the next time would be that he could see it again. Though, as he studied it, he felt a warm flush across his face, forcing the petite blonde to look away uncomfortably, diverting his focus to the coffee table.

Kenny smiled faintly, wondering what Butters was thinking. He didn't move away, though, and there wasn't much to say. "I... you need a friend at least. A real one." He pointed out, hand slipping down to take one of Butters'. "I'm not sure if I'll be a good one, but I'll do my best. I did poke your eye out after all." Though that was just an excuse.

Butters smiled, holding back a chuckle at Kenny's explanation as to why they should be friends, though his reaction sobered a little as it sunk in. He really wasn't sure if Kenny was just saying this because he felt bad or obligated. Though, he decided that perhaps it would be better just to accept this, not to question the reason behind it. A friend - a real one, could be what he needed. Who knew, maybe it would finally allow him to let go of his father. "Kenny...thank you. I-I, shucks, I don't know how to repay you for all of this, but just know that I'm here for you, too, okay? Always."

Kenny nodded a little and gave the other's hand another squeeze. He didn't know if what he'd said was a reason or an excuse, but it worked, now didn't it? "I'm not really.. important enough to take care of you." He said apologetically, "But when I get bigger.. I'm gonna kick your dad's ass."

Butters' eyes widened at Kenny's small threat towards his father, though a faint smile soon found it's way back to his lips. "Okay then," he laughed lightly, "but if you want to get any bigger, you're going to need to eat!" He grabbed the remaining cookies and pressed the bag to his friend's chest, half because he was exhausted of talking about his problems, but also because he really did want his friend to eat something. Though, as he thought about it, cookies were barely considered food. "Come on, we can go make some sandwiches." The blonde shifted to his feet, pulling at Kenny's hand.

"I don't need.." Kenny started, flushing with embarrassment. Really, he did. He was SO hungry. "...D'you have any kind of meat?" He asked timidly, letting Butters pull him along by the hand. Guiltily, he realized the desire for food was taking over his concern for his friend. He sucked.

Butters smiled, nodding, "I think so..." he continued towards the kitchen until he reached the refrigerator where he finally released Kenny's hand to drag open the door peering at the shelves. "We have some cold cuts," He pulled out the small deli bags, reading the labels. "Ham, turkey and...roast beef."

He passed all three to Kenny before looking back into the fridge, pulling out a jar of mayo and a bottle of mustard. "Really, you can have anything, Kenny. There might be some leftovers from last night we can heat up too..."

Kenny flushed darkly, but at the same time he was opening up one of the bags and eating straight out of it. All the food he was suddenly being offered made it hard to think. "Fanks." He said, now not muffled by his hood but by a mouthful of ham. He swallowed and set everything down though, suddenly, and moved over to embrace Butters again from the side, arms sliding around the slightly smaller boy's waist. "Don't... tell anyone I was eating all your food... okay?"

"Don't mention it." He looked to him at one point, but quickly buried his head in the pantry, determined to find the bread. He felt bad having to watch Kenny scarf down the plain cold cuts so eagerly. Unaware that the other blonde had even moved to him, Butters jumped slightly as the others' arms snaked around him, taken aback by the hug. He nodded, slightly confused, "Okay, Kenny. No one'll know." It wasn't like he had anyone to tell such a thing to.

There was a moment of quiet, while Kenny hid his face. "You're not gonna get in trouble with your...parents, are you?" He asked fearfully. If this was going to get Butters grounded, maybe he shouldn't. He'd never cared if the other boy got into trouble before, but that was before Butters had told him all that stuff. The sharing thing kind of changed the way Kenny thought of the other boy, and he wondered if Butters would be changing because of all of it.

Butters looked down, some sense of understanding flooding his vision now. Kenny had a good point. His parents would be less than pleased to come home to find a raided kitchen, and he was certain they would have their fun coming up with a punishment for him. Yet, there was no way in hell he was going to allow the McCormick go home hungry. You can't do those things to friends. He opted to avoid the question, his hands gently moving to pry the other off of him, knowing he was enjoying the warmth far too much. "Kenny, please...just...eat. Don't you worry about me."

"Butters..." The younger boy bit his lip. "There's gotta be something.. something they'll notice less..." He suggested. It was hard to find a balance- he was fucking starving, but suddenly he was also wanting to take good care of the other, and he didn't think this qualified at all.

With a sigh, he moved back to the fridge, "If you really want we can warm up some meat loaf. I'm sure you can eat as much of that as you want without them noticing much. We just had it last night so it shouldn't taste too bad..." He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the platter on the shelf it rested on, and although the weight of the heavy ceramic above him caught him off guard, it made it to the counter safely. He peeled back the tinfoil, peeking at the meat before allowing his gaze to fall back on Kenny, "Is this okay with you?"

Kenny nodded and slipped over, making himself keep his hands off the lunch meat. "That's good, anything is fine, c-c-cause I like everything you know." Not because he was just that hungry. "Look, thank you Butters..." He offered, smiling a bit. It was weird enough eating like this, but he couldn't let the chance to have a full stomach get past him.

"You're welcome..." Butters frowned as he grabbed a plate for Kenny, along with some silverware, cutting a generous helping of the meat for his friend to set in the microwave. He wanted to give the other so much more than just some crappy leftovers. "Ugh. Next time I'll make something just for you, okay?" He spoke, slowly putting away the abandoned ingredients to a sandwich, along with the remaining meat loaf. Once the kitchen was once again uncluttered, things placed just where they belonged, the timer had gone off for the microwave and Butters found himself being drawn back to it, pulling out the steaming contents to present to Kenny with a slight scowl. "I promise, it'll sure be better than this!"

Kenny took the dish, shaking his head, then kissed Butters' cheek quickly. "This is find, really. I don't want to be too much trouble." Not that he thought he was important enough to anyone to burden them. "This looks really good." And it did. It was warm and it wasn't waffles, after all. He snagged a fork and made his way to the kitchen table, already digging in almost desperately.

Butters blinked, stunned at the small, simple display of affection Kenny had supplied him with. It took a few seconds for Butters to function again, the other boy already at the table by the time a smile moved to meet his flushed cheeks, "Kenny...it's the least I can do for you," he moved to sit beside his friend. Butters hugged his knees to his chest, watching as his friend ate down the leftovers beside him, "You've done so much. I'm not sure you really understand how much this all means to me."

Kenny was wolfing down the food he'd been given, though he did give a little nod. "You know," He said between bites, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, "I do some of that shit on purpose, but I mean.. it's cause I want to, you know? You should never not want to, man." He pet at Butters' arm with his non-eating hand. "I'm just sorry they do that to you. Since you're a naive little guy, or you were..or we thought you were, you musta been all kinda of freaked out. Knowing what happened to you... it really takes the fun out of it for me. I feel all gross now actually." In a different way than how he was accustomed to feeling dirty.

Butters shifted in his seat, shifting in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable there. "But...I don't know. I don't understand it, how you can just go off and have stuff done to you like that. Willingly." He frowned, not enjoying the pity, though he nodded along with it, trying to grasp some understanding. "I mean...sometimes it isn't so bad. It can feel nice, just...I still can't see myself asking for any of it is all. They're different things, or at least they must be. You...you shouldn't stop what you enjoy to do because of little ol' me, Kenny. Even though it may not be the safest hobby..."

"No, it's just..." Kenny shook his head. "It's one thing to want to, or to want someone's ten bucks in my case. I PICK that." He took another bite, his last bite already, and looked into his bowl sorrowfully. "It doesn't mean anything to me. It should be better than that for someone like you though." It wasn't pity, exactly- but he really was sad for Butters. "You're one of those people that deserves love and all that."

Butters blinked, making a face confused. He was far too absorbed in their conversation that he failed to notice that Kenny's lips were no longer met with his fork, plate scraped clean. "Why would you go sayin' such a thing? You deserve to be loved, too, you know. You're not as different from the rest of us as you like to think."

Kenny just pushed his bowl away and leaned back in his chair, looking over at Butters. "I don't know about that. I'm poor. Poor people..." He shook his head. "If your parents want to send you to college they totally could. You know? Me, they already don't care whether or not I'm in school. I could never... I don't know. This shit is too deep for me, Butters. D'you want to go throw rocks at cars or something?"

A torn expression fell into place on Butters' face as the other explained. Where Kenny's parents failed to care at all, Butters' own cared far too much. Yet, he wanted Kenny to know that he cared. That he wanted to be sure he was safe, in school, wherever it was that he belonged. Yet, the words never quite made it to his lips. "I...I can't. My parents..." he trailed off holding his tongue. He knew well enough his parents would have his head if they ever found out that not only did Kenny come over while he was meant to be recovering, but that he had gone out and wreaked havoc on some poor soul's car. It only proved Kenny's point. And to be honest his parents had put him through enough crap, there was little that they could do that they hadn't managed to yet, whether the act be in secrecy or not. He was sick of it - they'd just find another excuse to punish him sooner or later anyway. "You know what? I'll go. Why not."


	4. Like a Teddy Bear

Kenny grinned at him and grabbed the other boy by the arm happily, starting to haul him forward. "I'll teach you how to hit their windshields!" He declared, hanging onto Butters as he started for the door, but letting go to put his hood back up. He never seemed to think about consequences, and well, he figured Butters deserved to have a good time after everything.

"Okay," Butters giggled as he was dragged along to the door, only hoping that his lack of depth perception wouldn't hurt his chances of getting atleast a few good throws in. He opened the door as the Kenny put up his hood, feeling the rush of cold air as he stepped out to his doorstep. He admired the carefree attitude of the poor boy at his side. One day he could only hope that he'd find the same freedom, though the chances of that happening, as things stood, seemed slim.

Kenny led him along once they were outside, to everyone's favorite vantage point on the edge of town. He let Butters take the good spot and pressed a rock into his hand, grinning at him. "I won't even blame you if we fuck something up." He offered, giving Butters' hand a squeeze before letting go and sitting beside him. "Now, to wait for a car..." And with that, the younger boy trailed off and smiled at Butters from behind his hood.

It was a rush, to say the least, to just wait there, rock in hand. For just once he felt relatively normal, just one of the others, not so readily cast aside to be made fun of. A boy. A normal, impish little boy. Impatiently waiting, the minutes it took before a car actually showed up felt like hours. "Ah-! Here comes one!" He bit his lip as he drew his arm back, aiming to chuck the rock. It thunked against the passenger window of the shiny, red Impala.

He cringed, waiting for them to slam on their breaks, throw an outburst, hunt down the little rascals who had ruined their car. "Oh hamburgers..." Yet, to his surprise, no such thing had happened. The car simply continued on it's way, barreling down the road in all of it's sports car glory. The shock of fear quickly gone, he turned to Kenny beaming, "I-I hit it!" He grinned, "Did you see?! Was that good?"

"That was really good!" Kenny congratulated, patting Butters on the back, then just kind of leaving his hand there. "You want the next one too?" He offered, a great sacrifice, considering how much Kenny liked to cause destruction. The orange-hooded blonde was already looking around for another aerodynamically sound rock for Butters, flashing surprisingly white teeth in a grin as he bent down and picked a good one up, hefting it thoughtfully before holding it out, mischief dancing in his blue eyes.

Butters beamed, relishing this rebellion. Or perhaps it was Kenny's approval which made him so happy. It was something new, exciting. He was so accustomed to just listening, to doing what he was told. It was liberating, in a way, to do such scandalous things without even hiding behind the tinfoil mask of Professor Chaos. No, it was Butters who took another rock from Kenny's hand, Butters who bit his lip as he aimed, and Butters who threw it, watching as it hit yet another car. Professor Chaos had no say in this. And something within him really, really didn't want to stop.

"You damned kids!" The second driver cried, shaking a fist out his window as he kept going.

Kenny burst out laughing and slung an arm around Butters' shoulders, enjoying himself. "Wow, even with one eye. You wouldn't be picked on so much if you cut loose and chucks rocks at things more!" He observed, laughing. There were no more cars in sight just yet, but Kenny felt like he could hang out with Butters all day.

Butters blushed a bit at Kenny's praise, shaking his head as he smiled, giggling. His heart was racing with adrenaline left from the driver's words. Of course, somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if the man had seen his face, or if perhaps he knew his father or mother; if he would be tattled on. Though, the blond found that perhaps that was the main attraction to this mindless hobby. He leaned into the other boy a bit, looking to him with bright eyes, "Well...shucks, Kenny. Thank you. Really, I...I would never think this could be such fun."

"Why do you think we do it all the time?" Kenny asked, giving the other's shoulders a squeeze before he broke away, starting to gather a little pile of rocks. "We also throw them at the windows of the abandoned house on Parker street. Someday I'm gonna nail chicks in there." He explained happily. This seemed to hold no correlation to what happened to Butters for Kenny- then again it was a different circumstance and situation entirely. He was trying not to think about that had happened to his 'new' friend, but the more he tried not to the more it bothered him. He wanted to do something about it! No one should hate sex! Sex was fucking AWESOME.

"Oh yeah?" Butters looked after Kenny for a bit as he picked up the rocks, trying to distinguish the common theme among them before joining him in the hunt. This task seemed more difficult, and less exciting, than actually throwing them. He was lost as Kenny spoke. Butters had yet to find the attraction in girls. Sure, he admired them, but more as a longing to play Hello Kitty with them, and if it weren't for the rumor of cooties, he may have. "I really don't see what the big deal is..."

"The big deal about what?" Kenny asked from where he was crouched down, seeming to weigh two rocks against each other. Picking one over the other, he tossed the reject aside and kept looking. Kenny himself found equal interest in boys and girls, though the gay thing he mostly did with older men in back allweyways- the guys would think he was weird if they knew he agreed with Bebe about Kyle's sweet ass, for example.

He shrugged, unearthing a rock from a snow patch, the cool white biting at his fingertips. "Well, you know. Girls, sex, all of that stuff." Butters frowned at the rock, wondering if he should really be confessing to such things. Just as he had earned some minor sense of normalcy, he felt himself ruining it.

Kenny looked up at him and shrugged. "The other guys aren't into it either. Well Stan holds Wendy's hand and pukes on her a lot, but Kyle.. he only liked Rebecca. I was still proud of him though, even if what happened to her turned him gay or something... I dunno, dude. I guess I'm just curious. That and I really like feeling good... yeah." He wasn't looking at Butters when he admitted that, he was grabbing a couple more rocks.

The words comforted him a bit, allowing himself to feel far less unusual. Rather, this time, it was Kenny who was the odd one. He frowned at that, no, not odd. Not odd at all. "I don't see anything wrong with that. I mean, who wouldn't want to feel good? I'm sure people find all different ways to make themselves feel good. And well, you found yours while the rest of us are just still lookin', is all." Or something like that. The philosophy of a nine year old doesn't stretch very far.

Kenny laughed. "Oh, we'll all find the same way eventually. As often as I die, I figure makin' a headstart on everything's a good idea. You know? I might not always get a free ride back here." He straightened up finally and offered some of the better rocks he'd collected to Butters. "Care if I go for the next one?"

He smiled, shaking his head as he took a few of the rocks, though he left most of them for Kenny. "Go for as many as you want." He was beginning to feel the effects of his painkillers wear off now, a nagging pain in his left eye reminding him why the eye patch was even there. It probably wouldn't hurt to sit a few out."This way," he noted with a small smile, "I'll get to see how it's really done."

Kenny actually flushed a bit behind the safety of his parka. Since when was Butters so friggin' cute? Shrugging it off he turned back to the road, waiting. "You do it just fine." He said almost huffily, shielding his eyes further from the sun. "Having them go 'you damn kids' is like, the whole goal anyhow. Hey, after this, what d'you wanna do?" Just then a car appeared, approaching quickly- in fact, it looked like they were speeding. Kenny pulled his arm back and threw his rock, but the car was too fast- he barely hit the rear tire, and the driver didn't even notice. He flushed, embarrassed he'd missed in front of the other. "Uh.."

Butters let out a tiny, hidden giggle at Kenny's miss, though he tried to hold it back, noting the sound of embarrassment in the others voice, even if it was left unseen beneath the parka. "I'll pretend I didn't see that, okay?" He placed a finger to his own lips, shushing. Secrets; he seemed to be holding a lot, lately. "We can do anything. I just need to be back before my parents get home from work. Er else...well, you know." His fingers wrung together then as he cast his gaze down to the dirt and snow under his feet, and though his shoulders shrugged, passing it off as nothing to be worried about, there was worry there. His rebellion could, after all, only go so far.

Kenny nodded, putting a hand down on Butters' shoulder and making up his mind. "I don't want you to get grounded. We'll do whatever you want for a couple hours, and I'll make sure you get home, okay?" And with that, he let go to peg another car. This one he did better, striking the windshield right in the driver's face. The poor man swerved, but kept going, shaking an angry fist.

"You damn kids!!"

"Ha!"

A smile spread across Butters' lips as the driver screamed at them, and he found himself laughing at the man. "Okay, Kenny. But I-I really don't care what it is we do." And it was true, he was finding that as long as he was with the other blonde, it didn't matter. He was happy. "I could sit out here all day if you wanted to."

Kenny looked at him oddly, then laughed a bit. "That sounded... funny, dude." He announced, plopping back down to sit again. There was no way he would flirt back with someone who'd been molested like Butters had. He just knew the other boy wouldn't handle it well.

Butters scrunched up his face, shaking his head as he tried to mark some error in his previous statement. "Sorry, I-" he frowned, looking out to the road then, "Just let me know if I'm being funny, okay? I know there are reasons that you guys don't like to hang out with me." He chuckled, looking back to Kenny, "I don't want you to have to suddenly have to put up with them just because you're-" guilty? "...my friend."

Kenny shrugged. "I don't think there are any reasons other than us guys being assholes." He offered. "Now come sit by me..." And the orange-hooded boy patted the flat stone surface to his left, giving him another winning smile.

Butters smiled slightly, though it wavered the moment he felt his face warm as Kenny called him over. That...that smile. Every time Kenny would flash it, he would feel himself react in ways he could only guess were wrong. Then again, it could have been the painkillers. "A...alright," he moved over to his friend's side, sitting on the cold, hard ground where his friend had gestured him to.

Kenny leaned up against the other, pleased, and passed him some rocks. "You know, you're really cute..." He decided. Maybe it would be better if Butters wasn't. Maybe they'd leave him alone if he wasn't so...god, now Kenny wanted to... "Ugh..."

Butters did his best to concentrate on the rocks that had been set in his hands and not on the body next to him, nor the words that were coming out of his mouth. Somehow, Kenny's voice still ran into his consciousness, leaving him dumbfounded. Cute? Was that really what he had said? The butterflies in his stomach were congealing into something sour, some form of pure fear and distrust. It was a feeling so rotten that it could only be traced back to his father and his sick hobby. It took a moment for Butters to remind himself that Kenny wasn't his father; that Kenny wouldn't do anything to him. "Uh, well, gosh. Th...thank you, Kenny..." he told it to the rocks, fearing if he looked to the boy beside him, the scolding heat across his cheeks would burst into full flames. It was then that he heard Kenny's little sound of disgust however, and he found his gaze looking to him, some splash of worry rippling across his blue eye, "What's wrong?"

Butters was...completely off limits. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's not, uh, sensitive of me to like, like you...so..." He looked away. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry." Kenny smiled. "I'd never be...an asshole or anything so. Yeah let's pretend I never said anything huh? You need a friend."

Butters returned his gaze back to the rocks, listening as a car ran by, though he was barely aware of it. "But Kenny..." he struggled, frowning. His right hand dropped the rocks it held to the ground in front of him, moving to paw at the others' shoulder, forcing out the words that bit at the back of his teeth as he stared at him.

"I know you'd never be a jerk. You're not like anyone else...not like them," he allowed his head to fall back down then, his hand drifting back to the dirt below as he mumbled, "And I...I don't want to pretend."

Kenny swallowed, turning to look at Butters and pushing his hood back again. "I don't have anything... I'm not good enough to take care of you, and I can't fix anything. But I still kind of want to just stick you in my pocket and keep you with me... you know?" He sighed. All this was too much for even Kenny's nine-year old brain.

Butters' brow furrowed, "I don't want anything from you. I told you already...you've given enough. To have you here, Kenny, just this is enough." He shook his head, unsure how to exactly explain it, he felt as if he were already treading on some dreaded day-time soap opera territory with his words. "It's just, you being here, it lets me know that I'm such a freak. That there's something else, too, y-you know? That not everything is all doom and gloom."

Kenny nodded slowly. "I deserve what happened to you more than you do you know. You're like perfect, Butters." Blue eyes danced away for a moment and he sighed. "I'm having a hard time.. cause I worry I'll freak you out. But I like... wanna hug you and stuff... like a teddy bear 'r something. It's like you need a hug but I don't wanna freak you out or nothing."

Perfect? Since when did Butters, the social leper, qualify as perfect? He shook his head dismissively at those words. "Don't say that. Please, don't. You don't deserve anything like that. No one-" he bit his lip then, cutting off his own sentence. Sometimes, Butters did indeed feel that he, himself deserved such punishment. That he brought this all upon himself. A consequence that couldn't be avoided. He kept his gaze on the ground, wanting to disagree with the one beside him in so many ways. That if he were to be hugged, cuddled like the teddy bear Kenny so desired, he would not 'freak out'. Yet, he knew, somewhere, there were no guarantees. That no matter how badly he wanted to return the warmth Kenny provided, there would be a good chance he wouldn't be able to.

"I really can't promise you that I won't...I want to, Kenny, I really do...but..." he frowned, the lid of his eye falling shut, "I don't know how."

Kenny eased closer, looking just about heartbroken. "Just tell me...if I bother you.." He offered, preparing to give Butters that hug they'd been talking about. "You're almost as big as I am, you can always hit me or something..." The younger boy said slowly, putting an arm behind him before letting it settle around his shoulders, starting to draw Butters closer. "You don't have to do anything back. I just...want you to feel better, okay?" And he tried to tuck the smaller blonde in against his chest, arms around the boy's upper back.

Butters nodded into the darkness, his eye still held closed, even as he felt the others' arm press against his shoulders. He did his best not to tense, not to freeze, though as he was pulled to the other boy's chest, his fingers wound in on themselves, creating tight little fists.

This was Kenny, he had to remind himself, his voice sending him to recall the simple fact. Kenny would never do anything...purposely, to hurt him. The eye thing didn't count. The musty scent of the soft, orange parka entered his nose as he leaned against it. It reminded him of earth and rain, and something smokey. This wasn't a unkind scent, rather, it left him feeling warm as he breathed it, thawing his icy body from the inside out. Butters small fists untangled, soon finding their way also to the orange parka, clinging to it tightly.

He didn't want to run away, no, instead, he never wanted to let go.


End file.
